


Tales of the Forgotten Associates

by AnnaNSmith



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Established Relationship, Humor, Light Bondage, M/M, Office Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 16:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13461894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaNSmith/pseuds/AnnaNSmith
Summary: There is a rumor going around that the firm is being haunted at night. Turns out it's just Harvey and Mike having kinky sex after hours.





	Tales of the Forgotten Associates

“I'm telling you it's the ghosts of the Forgotten Associates!” Diana whisper-yells dramatically.

 

“Would you cut it out,” Max replies annoyed. “There is no such thing as ghosts.”

 

“I don't know man, I've watched Supernatural and I'm pretty sure this place has too many preternatural cold spots,” Boon chimes in nervously.

 

“What does that even mean?” He groans irritated. “You know what, I really don't want to hear it. Let's just hurry.”

 

“But I'm telling you I heard noises,” Diana insists, timidly looking over her shoulder.

 

Max thinks she's legitimately paranoid. It's two in the morning at Pearson Specter Litt and nobody is around. Everyone is long gone, leaving the three first-year associates alone in the abandoned offices. They would be home a long time ago as well, if feline loving Satan incarnate, hadn't buried them in affidavits of seven different class actions to be processed by tomorrow noon. Damn that Louis Litt.

 

The man finds constantly new innovative and cruel ways to torment his associates. He's a degrading, irrational, emotional, sadistic, power-drunk man and he deserves some long coming payback.

 

“Man, are we really gonna pee in his office?” Boon asks cowardly.

 

“Yes, we are. Now buck up,” Max shoots back. They're doing this, he doesn't have them chicken out now.

 

“But why peeing? Why can't we just cancel his mud bathing session or steal his prune juice? Why does it have to be so gross?” Diana scrunches up her nose in obvious distaste.

 

“He's denied you the day off for your sister's wedding and even had you work overtime – are you telling me some preschool level pranks are good enough?”

 

“What kind of preschool were you in...” Boon wonders incredulously.

 

“Besides, it's basically a rite of passage for first-years. An initiation if you will,” Max explains. “Everyone's done it.”

 

“I wonder who started it,” Diana ponders curiously.

 

“Who knows,” Max says shrugging. “Now are we doing this or not?” He demands, hands already on the door, ready to push it open when they hear a faint muffled sound.

 

“That was definitely a ghost wailing!” Diana shrieks frightened.

 

“Maybe she's right. You heard the stories,” Boon whispers exaggeratedly.

 

“For god's sake, it's a stupid, made up tale,” Max hisses back.

 

“That's what you said when they told us stories about Louis Litt at our first day. Guess what, it's all been true!”

 

Max has to concede having been wrong about the many, _many_ warnings concerning their boss. He had just thought it was some bizarre intimidation method. How was he to know that the stories were actually legitimate?

 

“She's got a point. I mean, how do you explain the missing associates?” Boon asks anxiously.

 

“It's just a stupid piece of paper. It doesn't mean anything,” Max dismisses, rolling his eyes.

 

“Don't you think it's the least bit strange that there is a list naming associates of which half a dozen nobody has ever heard of? Who are they? Why are they not here anymore? Why can't anybody remember them?”

 

“We're not on that list, Diana, doesn't mean we're ghosts,” he replies pointedly.

 

“Because we're new. The list is from a couple years ago. The third-years are on it, but they swear that there are names listed they've never heard before.”

 

Max is just about to retort when they hear what sounds like distant clanking.

 

“Oh my god!” Boon sobs out repeatedly, jumping up and down, looking like he's about to piss his pants. “We're gonna die! We never should have come here!”

 

“Shut up,” Max hushes him, though he himself feels an uncharacteristic cold shiver run down his back. “It's not ghosts!”

 

“ _No... no... please..._ ”

 

“You've heard that! Please, tell me you've heard that?!” Diana squeals miserably. They look at each other wide-eyed, listening to the obscure cries.

 

“- _on't... I'm sorry...”_

 

“It's the ghosts of the Forgotten Associates!” Boon blanches, looking as if he's a second from having a heart attack.

 

“Calm down, there's got to be an explanation,” Max stutters nervously, swallowing hard.

 

“ _You're killing me..._ ”

 

They're out of the building in seconds. And if they never again dare stay longer than midnight, it most definitely doesn't have anything to do with missing associates and yowling ghosts.

 

\- - -

 

“Did you hear that?” Mike asks breathlessly, turning his head in the direction of the hall.

 

“No. And if you think you're hearing things, I'm not doing a good enough of a job here,” Harvey says, eyebrows cocked in a mix of disbelief and amusement.

 

He has Mike riding him on his chair, naked, wrists bound behind his back with one of their ties and eyes blindfolded with their other.

 

Because Harvey has a bit of a mean streak, he thrusts up when Mike doesn't expect it, inciting a delicious moan from the young man and effectively leaving him struggling for balance.

 

“You jerk,” Mike huffs against Harvey's shoulder when the latter steadies him.

 

“Merely trying to regain your attention,” Harvey replies innocently, showcasing a bright mischievous smile he knows Mike can't see.

 

“You're having fun yet?” Mike asks knowingly, sliding down Harvey's cock with a groan.

 

That earns him a chuckle and a slap to his right ass cheek. “Oh, yes, you bet I do.”

 

Mike yelps helplessly, clenching down on Harvey's cock involuntarily.

 

Harvey snickers and does it again, liking the tight hold Mike has on him when he spanks him.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Harvey,” Mike cries out, unable to hold himself upright he slumps forward.

 

“I believe that's what I'm doing,” Harvey drawls smugly.

 

“You mean what _I'm_ doing?” Mike corrects, rolling his hips, which is a lot harder than it looks, considering the narrow space. He's happy for all the workout cycling has given his legs. There's no way he could have held himself upright, much less moved about, for as long as he has otherwise.

 

“Now you want me to do things?” Harvey asks incredulously, laughing in amusement. “I can go right back to where I left off, if that's what you want,” he offers, putting his hand on Mike's cock and leaning forward so that he can speak right against Mike's ear. “We could tie up your balls next, see how it feels coming dry. Over and over.”

 

Mike actually whimpers in response. Harvey had used the bindings of a string and button envelope to tie up his cock earlier and had kept stroking without mercy until Mike cried, begging him to stop. It had been a cruel way of overstimulating Mike and denying him any orgasm at the same time.

 

Tentatively he grinds down on Harvey's cock and rocks his hips up and down, faster than he had before.

 

“Not complaining anymore, are we...” Harvey chuckles, clearly enjoying Mike's new found enthusiasm.

 

Mike pants with the effort, sweat dripping down his face and neck. He can't help the moans escaping him when Harvey starts stroking him lazily. Not nearly enough pressure to have him come, but enough torturous stimulation for his precum to dribble out.

 

“Harvey...” Mike stammers weakly.

 

Absently Harvey hums an affirmative while cooping up the liquid and rubbing them onto Mike's sensitive nipples. Mike had been complaining about the office temperature, whining over the fact the janitors still haven't fixed the heating problem, but Harvey likes the way it gets Mike's nipples so perky and responsive. Enjoys how Mike flinches from the sensation of having them teased.

 

“Yes, Mike?” Looking innocently up from under his lashes, he licks the precum off of where he's just spread it around.

 

Mike blindly lowers his head, jerkily searching for Harvey's, and nuzzles him until he finds his lips and presses down tentatively. Harvey responds by slipping his filthy tongue inside Mike's mouth and have the latter suck on it, taste his own come.

 

“You dirty boy,” Harvey says amused, eagerly diving back to kiss Mike some more.

 

He brushes along Mike's thigh, kneads on his ass cheek and then slides his fingers around Mike's stretched hole to feel his cock rhythmically sliding in and out. He likes the feeling so much, he inserts his index finger alongside his cock, using it as a hook to pull the hole into a wider stretch and having Mike cry out in immediate response.

 

“Harvey,” Mike protests breathlessly. “It's too much.”

 

“Hardly,” Harvey laughs, thinking about all the things he's had Mike's hole stuffed with and promptly adds a second finger.

 

The addition has Mike exhale shakily, legs trembling under the strain of continuing to move his hips.

 

“Okay, okay, stop,” Mike concedes. “Please, that's enough.”

 

“We both know you're just saying that, because you nearly lost it just now and you remember what happened the last time you came all over my suit,” Harvey replies.

 

“And the only reason you chose this setting to begin with, was to make me come all over your suit, so that you would have an excuse to do it again,” Mike counters knowingly.

 

“Maybe so,” Harvey drawls, rolling his hip lazily. “What are you going to do about it?”

 

“It's off the table, if I make you come before me,” Mike answers, adjusting his position slightly to accommodate the new intrusion. “Unless you're not up to the challenge, old man?”

 

“Getting cocky, kid?” Harvey responds, eyebrow raised mockingly, though the smile gracing his lips says he's enjoying Mike's defiance quite a bit. “Alright. Let's see what you can do.”

 

Mike leans back until he reaches the desk behind him with his bound hands and then in an acrobatic maneuver every strip dancer would be jealous of, he unfold his legs from underneath him, hooks them over Harvey's shoulders, and then, back beautifully arched, sinks down gracefully on his cock again.

 

Harvey will never admit to how close he was to shooting his load in that moment. He groans audibly, throwing his head back against the chair, willing himself not to climax through clenched fists.

 

“That all you got?” He rasps.

 

“Cute,” Mike deadpans between gasps. He tries to squeeze Harvey's cock around the up-strokes which is killing his back, only allowing him to do it every other thrust, but it seems to do the trick. Mike can feel Harvey tense, if only the slightest bit, but it's enough to let him know Harvey is close. The smugness must show on his face, because Harvey suddenly lifts him by his hips and pushes him further onto the desk. Standing up he jack knifes Mike, slipping his cock deep inside. Mike gasps, unable to hold back a small cry when Harvey manages to hit his prostrate dead-on.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he moans so eloquently and then keeps on stammering it when Harvey begins a brutal pace, rocking him violently against the top of the desk.

 

“I thought your brain stored a more sophisticated vocabulary than this,” Harvey drawls distractedly. “I guess not when it's currently being fucked out of you.”

 

“Is this your attempt at dirty talk, Harvey?” Mike chuckles.

 

Grabbing Mike's legs on the underside of his knees, he pushes them down onto the desk. The new angle allows him to go even deeper, allows him to circle his hips in a sensual rocking motion, allows him to press onto Mike's prostrate mercilessly and hear Mike choke on his own breath, trembling harshly under Harvey's ministrations. He leans forward, presses his lips right to the shell of Mike's right ear, and says, “Don't pretend you can't come from my voice alone, Mike.”

 

And Mike comes helplessly. Moaning and twitching, back arched beautifully, head thrown back, exposing his sweat glistened neck for Harvey to kiss gently.

 

Coming in stripes on Harvey's other than that impeccable suit.

 

Once his climax finally subsides, it's like all his strings are cut and he collapses onto the desk and into himself. It's a beatific side and Harvey gives in as well, thrusts a couple more times, and then comes onto Mike's stomach.

 

“I win,” Harvey whispers cockily, right into Mike's pliant lips, removing the blindfold.

 

“That doesn't count,” Mike complains, licking into Harvey's mouth lazily.

 

“Don't be a sore loser. Maybe next time kid,” he replies smug and unapologetic.

 

“I had you!” Mike insists, sitting up so that Harvey can untie his wrists. “You were _this_ close.”

 

“Please,” Harvey drawls, cocking his eyebrow challengingly. “You got to do better than that next time.”

 

“How about I do when I bend you over the kitchen counter once we're home?” Mike asks, mouthing into Harvey's chin while his hands wander down to cup his perk ass cheeks.

 

“I believe you ruined another one of my suits,” he reminds succinctly. “Which means you'll have to pay up first.”

 

“Double or nothing.”

 

“What can you even offer me that would make this worth-”

 

“The stationary bike thing,” Mike cuts him off, tilting his head up in an endearingly display of boyish bravado.

 

Harvey watches him, narrowing his eyes carefully reserved.

 

“You said it wasn't possible?” Harvey replies challengingly.

 

“I'm flexible,” Mike says, shrugging. “I'd be willing to try and see, if we can turn that dirty dream you had into reality.”

 

Another silent minute and then Harvey nods in agreement, smirking devilishly.

 

“You better not try to back out of this one later.”

 

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Mike shoots back lazily, cleaning himself up and getting dressed. He collects the folders and papers that have ended up on the floor due to their hasty make out session and tries to bring them to something resembling an order.

 

“What's this?” Harvey snatches one of the papers from Mike. Some sort of informal list, peppered with small annotations in the margin.

 

“Not sure. It's an old list of past associates. Apparently there is a rumor going around, that there are names on the list that nobody has heard of and that they belong to deceased associates who hold a grudge against Louis and are now haunting the offices,” he explains, laughing whole-heartedly about the idea.

 

“Did Louis see this?” Harvey asks, pursing his lips in silent amusement.

 

“He was the one thrusting that thing on me, telling me to find an explanation that doesn't include ghosts,” Mike says. “Right before he turned the corner and called his psycho-therapist.”

 

Harvey chuckles in response, slipping gracefully into his coat. “So, what's the deal?”

 

“I don't know. I have no idea where these names come from. We never had any associates listed on that paper at the firm, I'd remember,” he responds, tapping his temple twice.

 

“You disappoint me. Took me less than a minute to figure it out,” he says, handing the paper back to Mike. “Tell me what am I paying you for again?”

 

“I can think of a few things,” Mike replies, looking over his shoulder to Harvey's desk and then back to Harvey again. The latter rolls his eyes at that. “But none of it includes me playing Sherlock.”

  
“Clearly you're Watson,” Harvey says. “And I'm Sherlock, since I solved this mystery.”

 

" _You, being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your coat collar up so you look cool_ ,” Mike quotes.

 

“BBC's Sherlock, really?” Harvey raises an unimpressed brow. “ _Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring_.”

 

“Don't knock it, if you can quote it. Now spill, what's with the list?” Mike asks impatiently while they are slowly walking down the corridor.

 

“Have a look at the author. Ring any bells?”

 

“Harold Gunderson...” Mike reads out loud and then groans when he gets it. “He just messed up the list...”

 

“Like so many other things,” Harvey hums his confirmation.

 

Mike rolls his eyes and balls up the paper, tossing it into the next trash bin. They silently head to the lifts, punching the button down.

 

“That's not what we're going to tell Louis though, right?” Mike asks after a beat.

 

“Nope,” Harvey says, smirking, when they enter the elevator.

 

“Do you have something particularly evil in mind?” Mike asks casually.

 

“Here's what we're gonna do...” He replies; the elevator doors closing shut.


End file.
